The Contest
by Sandy Erickson
Summary: A chili cookoff at Station 51 spawns disastrous consequences.


**"The Contest"**

**

by Sandy Erickson

**

  
  


****"This should be the last of them," Johnny told Roy, as he walked in the laundry room with his arms full of sheets from the bunks. Roy dumped a cupful of powdered detergent into the washer, took the armload of sheets from Johnny and began stuffing them in the washer as it was filling. Hank peeked his head around the corner and said,

"Lineup in 5 minutes, guys!" 

"Okay, Cap!" Johnny acknowledged. Out of the corner of his eye, Johnny thought he saw something on the laundry room floor over by the dryer. He looked more carefully then, only to see a field mouse scamper under it. He shook his head, pointed at the dryer and said,

"Roy, we've got another mouse. I just saw it go under the dryer." Roy closed the lid on the washer and said,

"Well, don't admit that you're the first one who saw it, or like Chet you'll be forced to commit mouse-i-cide." Roy glanced down at the floor, and both of them were surprised to see the mouse come out again, look at them, then scuttle across the floor under their feet and out the door into the bunk room. 

"He's a brave little sucker, isn't he?" Roy commented. Johnny shook his head again and said, as they walked out of the laundry room,

"What we need around here is a cat. If we had one, we probably wouldn't have all these darn mice hanging around."

"Think we could train Henry to catch mice?" Roy joked. Johnny rolled his eyes as they stepped out into the vehicle bay and replied, sarcastically,

"Henry? You've got to be kidding? There's only three reasons Henry gets off the couch: food, to go outside, and if a woman stops by the station. Somehow I don't think we could motivate him to catch mice."****

Johnny and Roy were the last two to arrive for the shift lineup, so they joined the end of the line. It was May 13, and it was raining steadily outside, as they could hear the steady hum of it on the vehicle bay roof. It had been raining for 4 days straight, and everyone was wishing that the sun would break through and dry out the saturated earth. Each day the rain carried on, the mood of all the crews was darkening, to the point where Hank wanted to find something to give everyone a distraction from the weather. 

After he had given out the daily work and equipment maintenance assignments, he continued,

"Okay. On a non-business note here, I had a pow-wow with the guys at 36, 110 and 2 recently about a little friendly competition." Everyone looked at each other, but it was Marco who asked the obvious question,

"Like what, Cap?" Hank chuckled to himself, because he could see already their interest was peaking.

"Well, we've been doing various fund raisers over the past couple years for the pediatric wing at the hospital, and since there's always been an ongoing rivalry over which station makes the best chili in the district, we decided that a chili cook off might be a good way to settle this once and for all, as well as raise some much needed funds for the hospital." The guys looked at each other and were grinning a little over the idea. Johnny inquired,

"I assume this means that there'd be a chili feed and the public would get to decide the winner?"

"You got it. Each shift will choose 1 person's recipe to represent them, which means there'll 3 entries from each station for a total of 12. The shift that gets the most votes will get to donate all proceeds from the event to the hospital pediatric fund in the station's name on behalf of their shift. Now, we've got 1 week to decide who's going to represent us, so I'd like to know now who's going to cook up a batch. Marco, I assume you will?" Hank asked.

"You bet, Cap!" Mike spoke up next,

"I'll give it a shot, Cap." 

"Okay, Stoker. Anyone else? Everyone glanced over at Chet, whom they assumed would try, since he liked his cooking, even if no one else did. Chet noticed all the guys looking at him and said,

"Oh, no! Not this time, guys! Even I'm not stupid enough to set myself up for more grief from you food critics! Let Mike and Marco have all the fun!" 

"Chicken!" Johnny muttered. Chet heard Johnny, pointed his finger at him and shot back,

"I heard that, Gage! Just for that, I will make a batch of chili for you clowns! Count me in, Cap!" 

"Okay, good! Now, to be fair about this, you each should make about a third of what it would take for 1 meal for all of us, just so everyone can try each batch and so we don't have 500 pounds of leftovers. When should we plan it for?" 

"How about Saturday, Cap?" Mike suggested. "That's our next shift." Hank nodded and said,

"Okay, Saturday it is. Now, I'll rig up a ballot box, if you will, and everyone can write down their choice on a piece of paper and dump it in the box. Before the end of the day on Saturday, I'll count up the votes and declare the winner. Any questions?"

"Yeah. Who's supplying the antacids for this little heartburn-inducing feast?" Johnny asked. 

"I'll volunteer for that, since I'll probably be using them the most," Roy replied, sarcastically.

"Okay. Unless there's any more questions, let's go to work!" Hank said, and all the guys headed for different parts of the building to begin their daily tasks.****

*******************************

****Johnny and Roy's assignment for the day was inventory of air bottles, so they were both in the store room, Roy with the clipboard and inventory list, and Johnny was reading the gauges on the tanks, setting aside the ones that needed to be filled. He was moving one bottle over to the side and was startled as he set it down when he saw a mouse run by his feet. Hardly believing his eyes, he pointed at the mouse as it ran toward the door,

"Roy! There goes that mouse again!" Roy looked up and saw it run out the door and shook his head, commenting, 

"Busy little bugger. He sure gets around." Johnny plunked the air bottle down and shot back,

"Yeah. Either that or there's more than one of them, in which case we definitely need to do something!" 

"Well, you know what they say," Roy responded, dryly, "there's no such thing as just one mouse." In a disgusted tone, Johnny grumbled, as he picked up another air bottle and read the gauge,

"Tell me about it." 

*******************************

After a day off on Friday, the crew was reporting back to the station on Saturday morning for their shift. Roy was already changing clothes when Johnny walked in. 

"Morning, partner," Johnny greeted him. Roy looked up and replied,

"Morning. Ready for the big lunch today?" Johnny took off his shirt and hung it up in the locker before he responded,

"Yeah. Provided you kept up your end of the deal." Roy grinned as he reached in his locker and pulled out a brown paper bag full of antacids of various types. Johnny grinned back at him, not saying a word. ****

****All morning, three slow cookers simmered on the kitchen counter, tended and stirred by Mike, Marco and Chet. Wonderful aromas were filling the station and by the time they returned from a run at 11:30, everyone was starving. 

"All right, enough torture already! Let's have lunch!" Hank announced. All of them headed for the kitchen and began getting out the dishes. In less than 5 minutes, they were all sitting down with their first bowl. 

"Now, I've sworn the cooks to secrecy, here, so we don't know which batch belongs to whom. When you decide which pot you're going to vote for, the ballot box is over there by the tv along with paper and a pen," Hank told all of them. Everyone began eating, and after Johnny had eaten most of the half bowl he'd dished up, he could feel his mouth starting to burn. He leaned over and said to Roy, as he picked up his glass of milk,

"Oh, man! This is a hot one! It's good, but...holy cow!" Roy replied,

"You're braver than I am. I could tell just by smelling that pot that it was a hot one , so I went to the next one first." After drinking about half of his glass of milk, Johnny finished up what was in the bowl and said, as he got up from the table,

"Well, I'm heading for the next one now!" 

About 15 minutes later, everyone was stuffed, so they took turns going over to the box to place their vote for which pot they liked the best. Roy brought the bag of antacids from his locker and dumped it out on the table, saying,

"Well, here's the antacids, guys! Choose your poison, if you need it!" Hank was standing over by the telephone, looking and feeling miserable as he walked over to choose from the pile of bottles and replied,

"Judging by the two-alarm case of heartburn I've got, I think I already did. Man! Where's the antidote?"

"Help yourself, Cap!" Roy told him, as he poured 2 tablets out of a bottle for himself, because he could already feel the inevitable case of heartburn starting. Even Johnny, who was known for his cast-iron stomach, came in a few minutes later to choose a heartburn remedy. As he chewed up 2 tablets, he said, rubbing his stomach,

"Oh, man! Somehow I think we're all going to live to regret eating 3 kinds of chili at once for lunch!"

"Which could make for an interesting afternoon!" Roy commented with sarcasm.

"Listen to you guys! What a big bunch of babies!" Chet rebuked them, as he quickly left the room. 

*****************************

All afternoon, everyone except Chet was suffering from indigestion to some degree. On their way back from a run around 3:00, Johnny said to Roy as he chewed up another antacid tablet,

"I haven't felt this miserable since I had a bad case of food poisoning last year. If I didn't know better, I'd say that's what it was!" Roy belched silently and felt the burning begin again. 

"Maybe it is. Got any more of those?" Roy asked, as he backed the squad into the vehicle bay. Johnny handed him the partial roll of tablets from his pocket as they got out of the truck . They began walking over to the kitchen, but they saw the rest of the crew gathered in Hank's office.

"Gage! DeSoto! Come on in and join the party!" Hank yelled to them. They squeezed in behind Mike, and Hank was going to continue with what he was talking about when the klaxon sounded and the dispatcher's voice announced,

"Station 51. Structure fire. 2799 Abingdon Road. 2799 Abingdon Road. Cross street Hilldale, time out 1515." Everyone went out to the vehicle bay while Hank wrote down the address, then picked up the microphone and acknowledged the call with,

"Station 51, KMG 365." 

******************************

Once they arrived at the fire scene, which was an older warehouse in an industrial area used for storage of shipments of various imported merchandise for several companies, a security guard ran up to them and told Captain Stanley,

"I've got two men in there yet! Up on the second floor. They were making their hourly rounds when they discovered the fire, and then there was an explosion. I tried to go back in for them, but couldn't get past the stairwell!"

"Okay. We'll send somebody in after them," Hank told the guard. "John! Roy! There's two men up on the 2nd floor!" he yelled. 

"Right, Cap!" Johnny replied, and they both began putting on their masks and tanks to make the trip inside the building to search for the missing men. As they tested their masks and prepared to put them on, Roy remarked,

"Well, we'd better pray that lunch stays where it's at until we get these masks off. How do you feel?" He asked Johnny. 

"Lousy!" Johnny groaned,

"Glad it's not only me," Roy replied, as he put on his mask. Johnny did the same and followed Roy into the building, where they received a cover stream from Chet and Marco, who were dragging an 1-1/2" hose into the front door. As Johnny and Roy made their way up the first floor stairwell, Chet and Marco followed closely behind them. About halfway up the stairs, Johnny happened to look back and see Marco, who was pulling backup on the hose behind Chet, tear off his mask in a hurry and lean over the stair railing. Silently, he wondered if he'd be next. As they rounded the corner onto the second floor, Roy fighting another wave of nausea and Johnny made the mistake of belching inside his mask, which nearly made him sick right then and there. By a stupendous effort of self-discipline, they did a systematic search of the 2nd floor, found the two men and carried them out to the squad. As soon as the victim was lifted from his back, Johnny walked around the back of the squad, ripped off his mask and took a couple gulps of fresh air, hoping to dissipate the queasiness he was feeling. After a minute or so, it passed, and he went back to help administer oxygen to the two men. As he knelt down beside one of them, he said to Mike who had the oxygen mask over the guard's face,

"Okay, Mike, Thanks. I'll take over." Not seeing Roy anywhere, he asked,

"Where's Roy?" Mike motioned toward the other side of the squad and said,

"He tore his mask off and ran around the other side of the squad a minute ago to puke, I think."

"Well, I might join him in a minute here, myself, if it comes back on me like it did in there with that mask on. Oh man!" Johnny responded. Hank had the oxygen from the engine on the other victim, and Johnny asked him,

"How do you feel, Cap?" Hank shook his head and replied, 

"Don't ask. I don't even want to think about it!" Then Roy came back around the front of the squad and relieved Hank on the oxygen for the second victim, who was now starting to come around. Johnny thought Roy looked a little pale and asked,

"You okay, partner?"

"I feel better now, but I was lucky I even made it out of the building," Roy replied. 

Soon the ambulance arrived, and both men were transported to the hospital together, with Roy riding along in the back. Once they arrived at Rampart, Johnny backed the squad into its usual parking spot beside the Ambulance Entrance door and walked inside with Roy and the attendants, the handi-talkie gripped in his right hand. After delivering the patients to Dr. Early and Dr. Morton, Johnny and Roy stopped out at the front desk to relax for a minute. Both of them were dirty, smoke smudged and still suffering from nausea and heartburn.

"Do you feel as bad as you look?" Johnny asked Roy. 

"Worse. How about you? You don't look so hot yourself." Roy responded. 

"Cap told me he was feeling like crap, and I think I saw Marco take a puke over the stairway when we were inside the building." 

"Sounds like whatever it is, the whole crew's got it," Roy commented. Johnny thought for a minute and replied,

"Not everyone, Roy! Chet is the only one who hasn't been complaining of a stomach ache or heartburn since we ate lunch." Dr. Brackett and Dixie walked up to them. Dixie took one look at Johnny and Roy and asked,

"Are you guys sick or something? You don't look so good." Dr. Brackett heard Dixie and came over to look at Johnny and Roy, who were both looking pale and uncomfortable. 

"She's right, fellas. You do look tough. What's wrong?" 

"Well, I'm not sure, Doc, but the whole crew, except for Chet, looks and feels the same or worse than we do. I'm wondering if it's food poisoning, because it started not too long after we ate lunch today," Johnny replied. Roy sat down heavily in a nearby chair and said,

"Yeah. I tossed my cookies once after we got out of that building, and I feel like I'm going to do it again." Dr. Brackett asked,

"What are the symptoms?"

"Nausea, vomiting, heartburn-you name it!" Johnny replied. 

"Hm. Sounds like it could be food poisoning, but why would Chet still be okay, if he had the same thing you guys did?" Then they explained about the chili contest and Dr. Brackett smiled as he told them,

"Well, I suspect that what happened is that since he couldn't vote for his own concoction, he didn't eat any of it, so it was probably something in his batch that's the culprit." Johnny and Roy looked at each other, stood up and Roy replied,

"Well, I think we'd better go question Chet about what the heck he put in that stuff." 

"You know it!" replied Johnny. "Thanks, Doc." 

**************************

Once they returned to the station, again they saw the engine crew gathered in Hank's office, so Johnny and Roy walked over there and snuck into the back of the room. Just by looking at everyone's faces, it was obvious that everyone was feeling terrible except for Chet. Hank then continued,

"Well, now that we're all here again, I've got the results of the voting tabulated. Not that any of us, except maybe Chet, really want to hear about chili right now, but the winner was whoever had batch B-it was unanimous, believe it or not!" Mike and Marco had shocked looks on their faces and both said at the same time,

"Chet?" Johnny and Roy looked at each other in disbelief, while Chet stood by the door, grinning like the proverbial cheshire cat. 

"We all voted for Chet's?" Johnny asked in utter surprise.

"I don't believe it," Roy responded, as he silently belched again and felt more burning. With an uncomfortable look on his face he continued,

"Well, then again, maybe I do." Johnny glanced at Roy, who then glared at Chet with a contemptuous expression on his face and demanded,

"Okay, Chet! Why are you the only one that's not feeling like crap here? "

"I have no idea." Chet replied, innocently.

"Well, Brackett thinks we've probably got food poisoning, and if you're the only one who's not sick then you didn't eat the same thing as the rest of us. Which batch did you skip?" Johnny insisted. All the guys turned around then and were glaring at Chet, who was by that time trying to squirm his way out of the office door.

"Kelly! Answer up!" Hank demanded.

"Well, geez, Cap! I figured since I couldn't vote for my own, I'd try just Marco and Mike's."

"So you didn't eat any of yours?" Johnny asked.

"No!" Chet replied, still looking somewhat confused. 

Johnny blocked Chet's impending exit out the door with his arm across the door frame and insisted again,

"Chet, did you put something weird in there?"

"Yeah! We'd like to know if we need to get our stomachs pumped!" Mike piped up. Still hesitating, Chet stammered, as he pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket,

"Hey, guys! Come on! It's my grandmother's recipe-take a look for yourselves!" 

"Let me see that!" said Johnny, snatching the paper out of Chet's hand. Roy looked over his shoulder as they read the ingredients,

"Onions, peppers, chili powder, tomatoes...wait a minute! What the heck is 'crotalo carne'?" Johnny asked. Marco cringed when he heard Johnny ask the question, hoping he hadn't heard him correctly.

"That's just the package of meat I put in it. She just has it made up in pound size packages at this little Hispanic market over by her place. When I was over at Grandma's last week, she gave me a couple packages of the meat to take home. She's made her chili that way for as long as I can remember," Chet responded. Johnny held the recipe up in front of Marco and asked,

"Marco, can you translate for us, please? What does this mean?" Johnny demanded, as he silently belched again, praying that he wouldn't be sick and have to leave the room before Marco told them. Marco was visibly hesitating and cautioned,

"Trust me, guys. You don't want to know!" Hank said,

"Come on, Pal. If you know what it means, tell us already. Don't worry-we won't shoot the messenger-just the cook!" Marco sighed and replied, hesitatingly,

"Sorry guys, but 'crotalo carne' means rattlesnake meat." The room fell totally silent as Hank, Mike, Roy and Johnny couldn't believe their ears. All of them turned to look at Chet, who by now had broken out in a fit of laughter. Marco rolled his eyes and said,

"I don't believe it! The rest of us are sicker than dogs from his cooking, and he thinks it's funny!" Chet forced himself to stop laughing and apologized,

"Sorry, guys...I didn't know that the meat was bad, honest! But I swear to you-she never told me that's what it was! I bet she'd love to be here and see your faces right about now. Granny always was one for a good joke!" Chet replied, starting to laugh again. Johnny sat down on a nearby chair and asked Roy,

"I must have lost my sense of humor, because I see nothing funny in this. Do you?" Roy shook his head and replied,

"Something tells me that Chet got his sadistic sense of humor from his grandmother!"

"That much is certain," Johnny agreed, still in disbelief. Looking very pale, Hank then made a hasty exit out of the room. Mike looked very stunned, as he walked out the door, saying,

"I think I need some fresh air!" Marco followed closely behind him. 

No sooner had everyone else disappeared than the klaxon tones sounded, and Roy rolled his eyes and moaned as he got up out of the chair he was sitting in. 

"This figures!" Johnny muttered as he got to his feet and followed Roy out to the vehicle bay. 

"Station 51. Structure fire. 10543 Jefferson Avenue. 10543 Jefferson Avenue. Time out 1620," announced the dispatcher's voice. As Roy picked up the microphone and acknowledged the call, he happened to see something down on the floor by his feet. Looking closer, he saw a mouse, scurrying along the brick wall, through the door and into the kitchen area. Shaking his head, Roy handed Johnny the slip of paper with the address on it as he got in the cab, and he recorded it in the log book. As he started the squad, he said to Johnny,

"I just saw our mouse again heading for the kitchen." Johnny looked up and responded, in a sarcastic tone,

"Maybe we'll get lucky and he'll eat the leftovers of Chet's chili and meet his demise."

"Would he be dumb enough to do that?" Roy wondered.

*******************************

After returning to the station around 5:00, Johnny and Roy were met in the vehicle bay by Bill from C shift. 

"Hey guys! About time you get back with the squad!" Bill teased them. Tired and sooty from dealing with the fire, Johnny and Roy just glanced at each other. Both of them wanted to make a remark but neither had the energy to do it. Johnny then noticed Mitch was walking toward them from the kitchen, carrying a dead mouse by the tail. He nudged Roy in the ribs and whispered,

"Hey! Look at that!" Roy looked up, saw the mouse and looked back at Johnny. A smirk came to his face as he replied,

"You don't suppose..." 

"Well, let's ask and find out!" Johnny told him. "Hey, Mitch! Where'd you find the dead mouse?" Mitch got a funny look on his face as he replied,

"You know, it's really weird. I found it in the bottom of the slow cooker in the kitchen that hadn't been washed out yet. Must have gotten into something somewhere else and crawled in there to die." Johnny and Roy looked at each other again, then burst out laughing as they headed for the locker room, leaving Bill and Mitch, still holding the dead mouse, looking at each other in bewilderment. 

"Think we missed something?" Bill asked. Mitch replied,

"Either that, or those two have been working too hard."

  
  
  
  


**THE END**

  
  


**Entered in Humor Fan Fic contest sponsored by "A Randy Mantooth Fan Club"**

**January, 2000**


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